


Music Hypnosis

by Sin_Dere



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: F/M, Phase 2, noodoc - Freeform, nudoc - Freeform, onesided (at first at least), plot divergence (eventually), shit taste in crushes, will update if anyone fancies it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sin_Dere/pseuds/Sin_Dere
Summary: It started off with the sound of some asshole's bass guitar, and her own inability to move on from it.  Young Noodle has come to the realization that she infact, has a crush on old mudsy- and intends to try and figure out why, and/or move on from it. Things aren't that simple though, and it doesn't help the world around her can never be the same as it was.(includes: attraction to the sound of bass guitars, adolescent crushes, strange coping mechanisms, teen self-angst, possible slow burn.)





	Music Hypnosis

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello~ Let me start off with the fact that A lot of these ideas were inspired from a FANTASTIC fic called 'infectious' (a super great nudoc fic that ended abruptly and ambiguously, it's one of the best things i've ever read and I highly suggest checking it out!). 
> 
> The main theme of this (possible) fic series is growing up and adjusting to change. It's something I REALLY want to work on, especially since ideas for my other running fic 'corrections' are rare and i need something to do other than stressing about it. 
> 
> I will change ratings and tags as necessary if things evolve or change, but so far it stands on 'T' rated ground. I would love to create more- and a little support can go a long way! 
> 
> *if you think setting this in phase 2 is strange I agree slightly, but it's the best time period for this sort of plot with all the teenage angst and all that. 
> 
> Once again PLEASE check out 'infectious'. It's a beautiful fic that mostly follows Murdoc. Yo writer of 'infectious' if you see this, know you're cool and i really love your writing style!

About 3 or 4 months had slid by since the band’s regrouping, and within that time it felt as though they’d never really been apart. It was impossible to avoid reminiscing over the past, and how it almost- but not quite all the way, aligned with the present like a skewed reflection.

A lot like now, 2D, Russel, murdoc, and herself, would hang out. More accurately, 2d and russel doted on her like worried parents while murdoc grumbled about one thing or another half sober. She personally preferred playing video games or playing her guitar in the sanctuary of her room. She enjoyed their company, but sometimes seemed to forget she was a teenager now, and fully capable of taking care of herself. 

When 2d was out for the count due to his headaches and blurring vision, or Russel became preoccupied by his possession(nowadays there was none), he'd decided murdoc had to pick up the slack and keep an eye on her. Realistically this only worked because if anything bad happened, russel could obliterate him into smooth guacamole.

It helped both murdoc and noodle were generally more reclusive, merely noting each others company and doing their own thing. She appreciated his lack of parental smothering, and he appreciated her lack of blatant judgement. Even more so since his hiatus had been wild enough to land him in a Mexican prison. 

Occasionally, she would set down her gaming handheld and listen to him strum mindlessly on el diablo, wondering how such a goblin could play something so enchanting. 

She would find herself humming along, or resisting the urge to grab the telecaster and join in. The sound of raw music transcended any language barrier, and murdoc knew how to convey what he wanted with el diablo. Once he'd offered to show her the difference between her guitar and his bass, but she was already aware how to play most instruments. 

Back then, she hardly understood a lick of english and just thought he was making sure HE still knew how his bass worked. She remembered confirming multiple times that yes, he knew how his instrument worked, did he want a medal? He normally did so when sober enough to want company and the other two were absent doing one errand or another. 

Often, she wished for those moments. The ones where 2d and russel left her alone, and she could peek out of her room and hear the faint sound of the Devil's bass guitar, singing as though it was from heaven. Now she found herself missing Murdoc’s mini lessons, and even if she knew how to play bass, would take lessons just to hear him play.

At age 11, Noodle had taken to recording what she was able on Cassette tapes, which had been placed in a box until she needed them (i.e when murdoc was not around but she wanted to hear him playing). Sure she had some recordings of 2d and russ too, but they were barely played in comparison. The rhythmic beat o fpercussion and the angsty lamenting notes held nothing to those sweet low notes. 

One time, she got murdoc to willingly perform his warmup and a short set for her. He accredited his participation to encouraging her ‘good taste in music’ and because ‘it was good learning material ’. It was more polished than the others, but still had a raw improvised feeling to it. 

Alas, the melodic escapades had been halted back then. 2d and murdoc had never been on stable ground to begin with, and russel could hardly put up with either of them after a while. The discourse had strained them, and they separated. 

 

Hardly understanding a word of english when the band dismembered, she couldn’t really share her thoughts. She couldn’t ask them to stop arguing, she couldn’t tell 2D or Russel she didn’t like to see them fight. She couldn’t tell Murdoc to stop stoking the fires in which turmoil brewed.

She couldn’t tell them how much she loved what they created. She had been angry as well though, and it hardly ran through her mind. All she could do was watch them leave one by one, and despite 2D offering to take her along, she'd adamantly refused in lieu of soul searching, and it simply brought her right back to kong. Her visit to japan and meeting mr. Kyuzo made her realize her home was with 2d, russel, and murdoc. She wanted to reestablish her home. 

When she arrived, it was somewhat disheartening to see it empty. Nobody had returned, and zombies clambered from their graves and scratched at the walls. To preoccupy her time and thoughts, she’d diminished the population of the undead, restored what she could of Kong, and wrote an entire album’s worth of music and then some. 

She longed for the silence to break with the soft hum of 2ds voice, or del rapping, or russel drumming along any given surface in a spontaneous rhythm. Thinking about the sound of Murdoc’s bass reminded her of the tapes. They would be the ghost of a sound, but a muffled recording was better than nothing. She missed them all too dearly to deprive herself of the memories they had. 

They were still stored with the player. She took to letting the low quality audio fill the soundless studio. Sometimes, she would play along on her own guitar, harmonizing with the rumble of the drums, 2d’s melodic acapella, but mostly the bass from the cassettes. It kept her at ease while she both worked and slept. 

After the studio was spruced up enough- she’d hunted down her scattered bandmates, gathering them for a long overdue reunion. 2D and Russel had hugged her and fret over her wellbeing, seeming at least neutral with each other thanks to the gap in time. 

Among the four of them- Murdoc had been the last to return, and his things had long been awaiting him, as though they’d never been lost. They’d collected dust by the time he arrived, but he had warmly thanked Noodle for her retrieval of them. It had not been easy. For the first time in what felt like forever, he’d tousled her hair and shown genuine gratitude.

She’d been so surprised by his show of affection her brain had fried momentarily. It was the first sign of care he’d shown in two long years, and she couldn't help but to smirk pridefully. During their time apart, she was worried maybe murdoc would hate them forever, that he would hate her forever. This had at least temporarily put those concerns to rest.

She listened to the tales of the three men during their hiatus, and naturally they were all eager to learn about her sudden fluency in english and the recollection of her memories. She had been assuaged of her loneliness, at least slightly.

Noodle had eventually proceeded to show off the rough album she’d written- going over the piles of lyrics and chords scrawled on scrap paper and loose leaf. It would be different without del, and different with her lyrics instead of Murdoc’s, but not wrong. 

During their first few singles and their first album, she had thought she was singing something profound, or that her guitar wailed in deep emotion. 

Looking back with her new knowledge, she couldn’t help but wonder why the shaved grinch wrote what he did. Still, despite the silliness most of those songs had, she loved performing them. Just because the meaning was different than she'd thought didn't make their impact any weaker on her. Now that she could, she wanted to ask murdoc what he was trying to express back then. 

Her own album only became better with the boys’ input- even though murdoc wanted to sneak in and claim the ideas as his own. She wasn’t a naive kid anymore though, and he didn’t get very far with that tactic. 2d was the second-most contributor to the album, having written the chorus for one of her earlier songs. The blue haired man even made a few suggestions for possible collaborators, most of which russel either seconded, or offered better choices on.

Murdoc grumbled under his breath here or there, though if it was agreement or not, she wasn’t sure. To appease him, she made a mental note to write something specific for the anthropomorphic pickle - albeit dually mocking and faithful to his egocentrism. 

Now, many weeks later, they sat on the couch, idly complaining about the lack of interesting shows on tv. 2D and Russel sat to her right, going off into their own debate about the merits of spray cheese. She was as uninterested as most would be about the topic. 

Murdoc seemed to be on a similar page, muttering for them to shove it somewhere dark and far away from him. At some point, her head must have latched itself staring dead at the irritable bassist. She couldn’t help but note how different he seemed now. Had this been due to incarceration or his own lack of self care?

 

“Noodle- Are you alright there?” The gravelly rasp of Murdoc’s voice snapped her from her trance. “You’ve been staring for a while y’know. Somethin’ on my face?” His voice had changed. He used to speak in a higher pitch and almost seemed to vocalize from his nose, now his voice was low and rumbled in his chest, almost beckoning. 

He swipes his tongue around as though to clean away any remaining food, somewhat self conscious seeing her pause for so long. She’d forgotten how abnormally long his tongue was and shuddered, though oddly not in disgust. 

“No- but I was just thinking about how something on your face might improve its appearance, Like a mask,” she quickly snarks back- a lopsided grin pulling up onto the left side of her face. How long had she been staring at him with such inquiry?

“Ah, bugger off- You just learned english and you’re insulting ol’ Mudsy?” 

“Before I was only able to do so in Japanese, I have been making fun of you long before this Murdoc,” she hums in a quick response. “It is incredibly easy,” 

“If your mouth gets any more smart, you’ll be doing math problems with it,” he grumbles defensively, arms folding over his chest. Despite his outward pout, he seemed to be taking it all as good humor. “Fuckin’ algebra spewin’ everywhere,” 

“Please do not take offense, I meant no harm by it,” Noodle jumps in quickly. He rolls his eyes and lets out a low grumble. His eyes were lidded- not really staring at the tv anymore. He was probably messing with her, mimicking hurt and getting a laugh at her genuine reaction. 

Without really thinking, She places her hand on his arm and looks him dead in the eyes. No words came to her, every language fighting and every syllable melting into silent gibberish she refused to make audible. He rose an eyebrow comically high- certain she’d forgotten to speak english all at once. 

The suspicion of his dark tired eyes seemed to drag the words from her. 

“I think you look perfectly fine Murdoc. You could not look better if you tried,” It was not apparent to the others if she meant what she said sarcastically or not. It came out rather blunt, and it occurred to her, she really did think he looked perfectly fine. 

Maybe going along with common beauty standards, one could argue differently- but Noodle thought he had an odd individuality to his appearance. His nose, though broken, was distinguished among his facial features, and his Green skin did wonders for his tired eyes- black and red dots still staring quizzically at her. The bags beneath his eyes made him look far wiser than he really was.

Her only complaint was the warm and rancid scent of his breath- committed to a daily portion of coffee, cigarettes, and alcohol. She was long used to it by now, and it hardly registered as anything but familiar. 

Catching herself becoming too allured in thinking about his charm points(if they could be noted as such)- it occurs to her that perhaps she was ill. By now her stomach churned and her face felt warm.

Before the elongated contact became any more awkward, she slid her hand back to her side and turned towards the television. She wasn’t really focusing on it though. The thought bloomed in her head, that despite the asshole he was- she liked Murdoc a great deal more than a sane human should.

Upon further thought, she realized part of it may have had to deal with his disregard for sugar coating his words. He wasn't really ever keen on presenting himself as a gentleman around her or anyone else. She kind of admired his lack of humility. Kind of. 

She had always assumed her respect for him came from his passion for music, his talents and his self confidence. Never before had she stopped to think she had a crush on the foul mouthed satanist. The more Noodle pondered, the more she realized her relationship with him had always seemed complicated. 

No more than 10, she recalled getting jealous of the women he brought around. She could recall going off about how they must have been evil, because they brought a negative force about her. It had not been easy to pin as jealousy then, since that is genuinely what she'd thought.

As a bonus, Noodle could remember their filming of rock the house, and how after her scenes were shot, she was transfixed on murdoc. He had been showing off yes, and she had simply been fascinated with his methods. Not to say she never found it ridiculous, it was plenty so, she simply knew as a child he brought a great grin to her face.

What had been curiosity of his method then, had tapered off into his attire and choice of choreography (if his hip wiggling could be labeled as such), nowadays. She found herself squirming in something like discomfort the more she fixated on it. Another thought came to her- the early development of a 5/4 video. 

Of course it never got past planning, but she recalled seeing the artist visions and storyboards. Murdoc, at some point, was to be stark naked and lunge from a phallic stage. The imagery lost to her then, was very apparent now. Noodle was certain murdoc dropped the idea once the budget was discussed, and the fact he would plummet down, devoid of any saucy contact with the admittedly attractive girls opposite of the stage. 

Her gaze darts from an outlandish hollywood film on tv to the boys. Her squirming had caught their attention enough that Russel spoke up. 

“Did Murdoc give you fleas or is the couch flat? You look antsy,” 

“Obviously the couch, no fleas on me Tubbs, to think of it, this thing is pretty old huh?” He presses a hand down beside her, shoving the aged cushions in enough to prove his point. As it sinks in, she dips towards him slightly, leg brushing his hand. Had she scooched closer at some point? She gave him a quick once over. 

Sure he had room to improve- much more than most, but something about his rugged untamed demeanor had always been fascinating. Now, at age 14- her stomach growling with panic and a sensation like a canary in a cage, it clicks. She has a crush on Murdoc Niccals. It wasn't a new feeling either, it was one she just hadn't understood until now. 

When she was younger, she’d always sought solace from him after a bad dream, dreams she now knew had been repressed memories from her training. From a surface view, it could have just been because he was the closest. Thinking back on it, she’d always felt safest camping out in his winnebago , even though Russel was the most likely to win a fight against a dream monster, or 2D would be the most empathetic to her situation. 

Murdoc had showed only the slightest reluctance, but always allowed her to sleep on the floor, or more accurately, lay on the floor and think until everyone else awoke. Of course, she’d never dared suggest resting beside him. He didn’t frequently wash his bedding, and she’d rather not smell like a dive bar. Just being in the same room had been enough to ease her nerves anyways. 

Staying at Kong by herself, she had nothing but the groaning of zombies and the recordings she was so accustomed to. Often times, the waking world and the nightmare world felt one and the same. Both were lonely, and both were empty.

After the winnebago turned up and she had it brought back, she'd spent a lot of time trying to clean it up. She spent a lot of time inside as a whole, pinning it to the nostalgia of her self proclaimed sleep overs. Knowing for sure the bedding was clean so long as she took care of it, she slept there and took in the warm familiar scents of spilled booze, cigarette smoke, and melted candles.

It had been strange moving back to her own room at first, but she found the large room a safe haven once the boys were back. It was much easier to practice her kicks and jabs in the bigger room as well. Still, noodle found she missed Murdoc’s faint smell, or the extra space felt empty. 

Even with the place was clear of shuffling corpses and full of those she regarded warmly, she felt like things couldn’t go back to how they were back then. She’d been a child, unaware of her own fixation and far away from pubescence. It would simply be far too questionable and far too laughable for her to attempt the same tactics now that she was a proper teenager. 

Noticing her lack of clear thoughts, and her gaze on the floor- she stands and heads to her room. No need to worry the others just because she had a lot to process. 

“I am going to bed,” she announced in a low drawl. She’s wished the best as she leaves, and she takes one last glance back to stare at murdoc. His profile is sharp against his surroundings- and the canaries in her stomach seem to dance again. She leaves, her face heating up and leaving her shaking. 

Hopefully this would pass. Murdoc was not obtainable, and by no means should he be! No matter how she argued with herself, the fact was she couldn’t just shut this off like a light. She liked Murdoc, and she needed to find a way to cope with it.

The canaries taking flight in her stomach keep fluttering, especially when she thought more about the past. As a pubescent girl, she found it easier to appreciate the way murdoc had dressed(or lack thereof), or his ease with words, or the way he rolled his hips when playing a low chord. 

She shivers again, clenching the covers to her face. The image alone sent enough heat to her face, but the blanket somehow helped. Within a minute, she managed to compose herself and the canaries stopped. 

That night like many others, she let the recordings ease her into a peculiar slumber. However now, when the bass hit a low note, she would imagine the faint hip roll and squirm anxiously in her sleep. Unknown to her, murdoc had paused outside, hearing the recordings, commending her for her good taste, blissfully unaware of her struggles.


End file.
